Random Musings & Book Reviews

Archive for May, 2017

I started high octane, 90% THC, cannabis oil on 22 May 2017. That perk was pretty immediate. I began my first bit of cannabis oil on a Monday and Tuesday morning I woke up headache-free. I was concerned the headaches meant the vascularities were growing (I picture them pulsating with colour, growing long thin branches), in that pain has purpose philosophy.
Regardless I didn’t have a headache for almost a week. My oral thrush nor my yeast infection cleared up because of the cannabis oil. A downside is that I’m sleepy. I switched from Sativa to an Indica oil and my energy level plummeted.

I have to live every day like I’m going to die tomorrow while simultaneously planning for the future of tomorrow. Could I hope for more time? I feel lost by spending time thinking about Jon and what he’ll do when I’m dead. complete and utter monkey mind bullshit. I shove it away but it comes back (clearly since this is stream of conscious and I’ve gone right to that. place. The place where Jon is alone and there is no me. There is no me because they’ve made my dust into a rose bush, or lilies, or whatever. I don’t want to look at that too closely lest I decide he’s better off without me and I break his heart by dying.

In the 80s there were some books about our minds controlling disease, but I realize that by blaming my mind for my bouts with cancer seems self-indulgent and rooted in the self-help generation, and I am working very hard at biting my tongue from sharing any of that crap.

I’m currently working on Week 8 since brain surgery.

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Since my grandmother died in 2009 I have had no-one to talk to about my problems with my husband except my therapist. It’s overwhelming. There is always a drama or a problem, an untruth or magical thinking. Gas lighting and stonewalling are a daily part of my life. This bad behaviour my son now mirrors and all I want to do is run away, far, far away. Fly away like a bird. Far, far away. But I’m visually impaired and unable to drive so my life is fucked. I’ve felt trapped for as long as I can remember. I agreed to a marriage and have asked for a divorce, a separation, a Quit Claim on the house, a whole myriad of requests to dissolve our union and my husband agrees and then pretends the conversation never occurred, let alone he said Yes to moving out. Or Yes to getting that Quit Claim.

He just can’t get to doing anything. His energy level is less than anyone I’ve ever met. He cannot manage an 8-hour day working at anything. So nothing gets done. We have discussions of the same things over and over again. He floats a solution and then never moves toward that solution. No goals. On a good day Minnesota culture is already exhausting. You can’t even cancel an appointment with a substantial 30 hour notice without being guilted, treated poorly, and shamed. That’s from a supposed professional, a Naturopath.

For me stripping my diet down has gotten me in touch with my body. When something is off I can feel it. Last summer I started to feel off, and while I’d felt off since Boston in March 2015, this was significantly different. I started smoking weed around then because I was in so much pain. Or what I thought at the time was a lot of pain. Little did I know that the pain would get far, far worse before any doctor would authorize a scan. Without a scan, even though I knew beyond a reasonable doubt that I had brain mets, the husband believes he knows better, about everything, even my head, and didn’t believe me. No matter how many times I told him I had brain cancer, he didn’t believe me until I got the scan and in less than eight hours my GP was saying I needed to check into the hospital immediately for surgery.

The husband is a shoe-in as a resident of Missouri because he expects everything to be SHOWN to him, just like Missouri’s license plate, The Show Me State. Without a scan I refuse to believe you have brain mets, was his position, and it’s hard living with someone that never hears a word out of your mouth unless it’s substantiated by indisputable facts. It’s exhausting. And I’m tired.

Because Nana was dead I confided in my new found cousin, Dawn. Instead of listening and validating, both super important to me, I received constant lectures about leaving my husband. Unfortunately my cousin doesn’t have money so she doesn’t understand the trap you can get into when you take an asset that is individual and make it joint. When you do that you’ve just fucked yourself.

So this conversation happened between by cousin and I.

Dawn: You need to leave him. He’s toxic. Blah blah blah blah yada yada yada blah blah
Me: I need someone to take care of me.
Dawn: ….
Me: Are you going to fly up here and take care of me?
Dawn: Ron would take care of me.

Are you confused? I was flabbergasted. Al she had to do was say No, but instead she started doing her own alcoholic tap dancing where she couldn’t be bothered to give a direct response to a direct question. Instead she floated a non-sequa